Her Man
by MagicSwede1965
Summary: A remorseful woman seeks to win back her former husband.  Follows 'King's Castle'.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** _If you think any of the names sound familiar in this story, check back with "Sins of the Father" and you'll see why (smile). There was a nice little plot possibility in that one and I just couldn't resist it. I am still open to ideas, and fortunately I have a few more percolating, as well as some that have been sitting around waiting their turn for more than a year. As I mentioned, if you have an idea, drop me a line in a review, since FF refuses to send story alerts, review alerts or personal messages to my Juno account any longer. I'll respond via a PM and give you my e-mail so we can communicate from there (or if you're an "anonymous" reviewer, just give me your e-mail address and I'll write back). Meantime, happy reading!_

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§ § § -- April 13, 2004

For some reason that Tuesday morning was overcast when Christian and Leslie let themselves into the lobby at the hospital, where their doctor and Leslie's OB-GYN both had their practices, and they were speculating idly on the possibility of rain before the day was out when Dr. Hannaford came out and smiled. "Six months and counting!" she said cheerfully, making the Enstads look up. "Come on back."

Once she had conducted her checkup and done the ultrasound—and discovered that now two babies were facing head down—Dr. Hannaford nodded in satisfaction. "You're doing just great, Mrs. Enstad," she said. "You're progressing so smoothly it's a dream, and you're coming through this with flying colors and very little more than the usual discomforts associated with being pregnant. I'd just advise you to try to deny your hunger a little bit. I know you'll lose a lot of your pregnancy weight after the triplets are born, especially since you're planning to nurse, but we don't want you gaining too much."

"It's hard," Leslie admitted. "I seem to be starving to death all the time, and Mariki's no help at all, any more than she ever was."

Christian grinned and pointed out, "You used to defy her constantly, didn't you, my Rose? Have you lost your taste for battle, or are you just too hungry to bother?"

Leslie and the doctor both laughed, and Leslie shrugged. "I guess being hungry just kills the combative spirit in me," she remarked playfully, making Christian chuckle.

"Are you sleeping okay?" Dr. Hannaford asked.

"I have a hard time falling asleep," Leslie said, "because the triplets always come alive when I get into bed, and start kicking me around as if I were a ball. Christian says he can see them making bumps on my gut now wherever their hands and feet flail around in there. Is there any way to make them stop?"

"Not really," Dr. Hannaford said sympathetically. "But you don't have to lie on your back all the time, you know. You really shouldn't anyway. Turn over on your left side and put a pillow between your knees. It may not slow down the little devils, but it might give you a little relief. Give it a try tonight."

Christian and Leslie both nodded; then Christian said, "Some friends of ours mentioned childbirth classes…will there be any here that we can take advantage of?"

"I'm so glad you asked. A colleague of mine is stationed on Coral Island and teaches a childbirth class twice a week, on Tuesday and Thursday nights. You should definitely take advantage of that, since I'm presuming you'll want to be there for your wife when she gives birth, Mr. Enstad."

"That I will," Christian said decisively. "Anything else we should know?"

"Relax and enjoy, that's it," said Dr. Hannaford and grinned. "You're doing so well, both of you, that you really impress me. Are you working on names?"

"We're trying to," said Leslie ironically, looking over at Christian, who rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "We can't really come up with anything right yet. I think what's killing us is that we have to come up with six names—three boys' names and three girls' names—so we have enough ready no matter whether it's all boys, all girls, or a mix."

Christian put in, "It seems all we've come up with are names we don't like, and we've also agreed that if there are boys, we'll have no juniors. I get suggestions from my employees, and I expect Leslie hears ideas from various and sundry sources as well."

"Invest in some name books," Dr. Hannaford said. "That should help. Okay, then, any other questions?" They had none, so she wished them a good day and sent them off.

On their way towards town Christian suddenly snapped his fingers. "Ah yes, one other thing," he said. "Not that this needed mentioning, I suppose, but just to be certain: we won't be naming any sons after our fathers."

"Yikes, no," Leslie said and shuddered. "Although I had thought about giving a boy Father's surname, like a middle name or something."

"Well, that's possible," Christian said, "but of course you realize I meant your biological father. No Michael or…or…" He hesitated.

"Roscoe," Leslie said, realizing what he was groping for. "Michael's middle name was Roscoe. I wouldn't have named a boy that anyway—sounds more like a dog's name to me, unfortunately. It brings to mind a big dog like a Saint Bernard or something."

Christian laughed. "I can picture that very well myself. Right, then…no Michael, no Roscoe, and certainly no Arnulf or Henrik or Justus."

Leslie looked at him in surprise. "Those were your father's other names?"

"Exactly so. Father was Arnulf Henrik Justus Enstad, and my late older brother was Arnulf Isak Felix. Father was usually called Ulf within the family, unless Mother was really furious with him; then she'd call him Arnulf and add the two middle names, just so we knew which one she meant." He chuckled softly, piloting the car into the town square and pulling into a space a few slots down from the entrance to the bookstore. "On that subject…have you thought of naming girls after our mothers? Shannon and Susanna?"

"That would be really cute if the twins are girls," Leslie mused. "But what if we have only one girl?"

"Then she could be Shannon Susanna," Christian said.

"I thought Susanna Shannon sounded better," Leslie said.

They looked at each other and both began to laugh. "Maybe we shouldn't bother naming the babies after anyone at all," Christian chortled, shaking his head. "Perhaps it's wisest to give them names all their own, the way Carl Johan and Anna-Laura, and Ceci, and Gerhard did. My only wish was to get away from using the name Anna again. It's overworked in the Enstad family, and I'd rather give it a rest."

"But it's part of the name Susanna," Leslie pointed out.

Christian paused, about to get out of the car. "I thought we weren't going to name a daughter after our mothers."

"I didn't _completely_ nix it," Leslie said.

They looked at each other, snickered again, and Christian shook his head. "Before we make each other crazy, let's get into that bookstore and pick up some baby-name books. Perhaps they'll give us choices we never would have come up with on our own."

§ § § -- April 24, 2004

On their way to the plane dock a week and a half later to greet their guests, Roarke turned to Leslie and asked curiously, "How is the name-choosing coming along?"

"It's stuck in the mud," Leslie reported with a tolerant sigh. "Mostly we've agreed on what we don't want. How we're ever going to get this resolved, I have no idea."

Roarke smiled. "I expect that you'll agree on something in due time," he said with a touch of humor, "even if it isn't till the infants are born and you find yourselves forced to make last-minute choices." Laughing softly, they watched the scenery pass by, and at the dock Roarke parked and helped his daughter out of the front seat before they took up their usual places. Roarke motioned the plane dock band into action, called for smiles, and gave his attention to the plane, whose hatch was just opening. Out stepped a pretty brunette woman with shoulder-length hair in a pixie cut, clutching her purse to her side, dressed in a smart-looking pantsuit. She had an uncertain expression on her face and was peering at her surroundings in an almost cautious, yet hopeful, manner.

"It looks to me like this lady's fantasy means a lot to her," Leslie said.

"Indeed it does," said Roarke approvingly. "Her name is Mandy Enderling, and she lives in Carson City, Nevada."

Leslie studied the woman with a slight frown. "Her name sounds familiar."

"As well it might," Roarke agreed. "A few years ago her former husband, Scott Enderling, was on the island—the man who thought you might be his half-sister."

"That's right," Leslie remembered, brightening. "Christian and I had quite a little chat with him over lunch the Saturday he was here. He mentioned his ex-wife and how much it had hurt when she left him. So what's her fantasy, then?"

"She would like another chance with her former husband," Roarke told her.

Leslie blinked and thought back. "It's been almost three years since he was here," she said, "and he didn't say how long he'd been divorced. I wonder if he'll be receptive to her overtures, if she's really hoping to get him back."

"That, I doubt," Roarke said a little gravely. "You'll recall that Julie has been very busy this past week, preparing for a wedding. The wedding in question is that of the selfsame Scott Enderling and his fiancée, Ms. Rochelle Tolliver."

"Ohhh," mumbled Leslie, eyes widening. "I wonder how this one's going to end up!"

Roarke simply looked at her for a moment, raised his eyebrows briefly, then straightened and turned his attention to the next party. Leslie listened dutifully, but couldn't stop eyeing Mandy Enderling. She remembered what Scott Enderling had said on his previous visit to the island, that Mandy had been the love of his life, but that she hadn't been able to tolerate his all-but-obsessive search for his birth father. Obviously a lot of things had changed—for both Enderlings. Where was it all going to wind up?

‡ ‡ ‡

Mandy Enderling had a narrow, almost elfin face, though it wasn't unattractive; she was a little taller than Leslie and her voice carried the tones of one who was used to being in charge of things. Sure enough, when she sat down before Roarke's desk and glanced between him and Leslie for a moment, she remarked, "This feels weird to me, Mr. Roarke, this uncertainty. I own my own business and people look to me to lead. I've always had a lot of confidence…except about this."

Leslie wondered if she sensed that her ex-husband was involved with someone else, and glanced at Roarke, who cleared his throat and said gently, "If you are to win back your former husband, Ms. Enderling, you'll need all the self-confidence you can muster up: for he is preparing to remarry, this very weekend. Tomorrow, in fact."

Mandy sat up and gasped. "Tomorrow!?"

Leslie nodded sympathetically. "Afraid so, Ms. Enderling."

"And what's more," Roarke added, still speaking gently, "he is very much in love with his fiancée. Your presence here will be quite a shock to him, to say the very least."

Mandy bit her lip and stared at her hands, folded in her lap. Leslie noticed the fingers were intertwined and pulling at one another, a nervous habit she'd seen in many other guests in the past. Mandy, apparently becoming aware of the movements of her hands, pulled them apart and looked up at Roarke. "Well, I'm here for a reason, and I'm not going to back out now. When can I see Scott?"

"Perhaps in an hour or so, Ms. Enderling," Roarke suggested, "when you have been shown to your bungalow and you've had some time to rest and freshen up. That will also give you some time to think about what you'd like to say to him when you see him."

Mandy considered that, then nodded slowly, looking reluctant. "I suppose you've got a point, Mr. Roarke. It's just that…well, I'm impatient, maybe by nature. I don't want to waste a minute that I could be using to try to persuade Scott that I want him back."

"He was here about three years ago, looking for his birth father," said Leslie after a glance and a nod from Roarke. "For a while he thought my biological father might be it, and he presented himself as my possible half-brother. We had DNA testing done, and while we were waiting for the results, he and I got acquainted a little bit. He told me and my husband that he was divorced and that you didn't seem to 'get' his need to find his father."

Mandy shrugged self-consciously, looking regretful. "I thought he was obsessed," she admitted reluctantly. "He spent a lot of time going over and over a bunch of letters his mother had left him, trying to figure out some way he could locate Michael Hamilton." She paused and regarded Leslie with a curious expression on her face. "So are you Scott's half-sister? Did he find his real father after all?"

"He did," said Leslie, "but it turned out Michael Hamilton wasn't Scott's father. We tracked down a fellow in California who had been an exchange student in school with Scott's mother, and he turned out to be the one Scott was looking for." She cleared her throat. "The divorce was pretty fresh on his mind, I think, and he said he let you go because he could tell you were unhappy with him and he didn't want that for you."

Mandy winced and reddened. "I probably don't even deserve the chance to try to win him back," she mumbled, hanging her head. "I'm more selfish than Scott. He was always trying his darnedest to please me, and he kept giving in when I had to have my way, just to make sure things stayed okay between us. How he put up with me for so long, I don't know, but he was a saint." She looked up finally. "I guess what I really want is the chance to prove to him that I've changed—I've grown up since then. For the first year or so after the divorce, I thought I had it made. But no matter how much I dated, none of the guys ever really appealed to me on a deeper level, not the way Scott did when I was with him. By the time I'd been divorced two years, I was lonely, but not enough to admit that I made a mistake. Only in the last few months has the truth finally really come out. I still love him, and I want him back so bad. My house is empty without him."

Leslie tried to picture herself without Christian and instantly felt her heart skip a beat; it wasn't possible. Life without Christian would be unbearable, she knew. She could feel for Mandy. She compressed her lips and looked at Roarke when he inquired, "Was there a specific event that brought the realization home to you?"

"No, I guess not," Mandy murmured, eyes downcast again, "just a gradual coming-around. This loneliness, and missing Scott…well, it's gotten so bad that I decided I had to do something about it, instead of sitting around making useless wishes. The only way I'll ever get Scott back is to tell him I want him back. I mean, he won't get the idea through telepathy or something dopey like that. So I got off my duff, looked over my finances and decided I could afford a short vacation here…and this fantasy."

"You spent quite a bit of money to come here for this opportunity," Roarke noted.

"Well, if I get Scott back, it'll be worth every penny," Mandy said fervently.

Roarke smiled. "Very well," he said, "in that case, Leslie will take you to your bungalow, and you will have two hours in which to rest and consider what you'd like to say to Mr. Enderling. At eleven-thirty, Leslie will pick you up there and take you to see him."

"Wonderful," Mandy said, brightening with hope. "Thanks so much, Mr. Roarke. I'm really grateful for this chance."

"Not at all, Ms. Enderling. Good luck." Roarke smiled and watched Leslie escort Mandy out the door.

On the way to the bungalow Mandy kept eyeing Leslie till Leslie felt like a specimen under a microscope. After a little bit Leslie kidded, "I must look pretty funny wedging myself behind a steering wheel like this."

Mandy laughed, embarrassed. "Oh…I wasn't thinking about that at all. It was something else entirely. Although, since you mention it…when are you due?"

"Well, I don't know for sure," Leslie said. "I'm going to have triplets, so my doctor is planning a Caesarian, and she said she's going to do all she can to keep me pregnant as long as possible. But multiples always come early, so it could be tomorrow or two months from now. I'm about six and a half months along now."

"I see," said Mandy, wide-eyed. "Triplets! Wonder how your husband feels?"

"He was really stunned at first," Leslie said with a laugh, "but once he absorbed it, he took it like a trouper. We've finally started really discussing names, after my doctor said at my last appointment that I was doing terrific. Up till then, Christian had been so batty with worrying about every move I made, naming the babies was about the furthest thing from his mind. I think he's finally relaxed a little bit."

Mandy and Leslie both laughed; then Mandy sighed and remarked, "You and your husband must be madly in love. I can see how your eyes light up when you talk about him. So you'll understand how I feel about Scott. What I was actually thinking…couldn't you, well…maybe put in a good word for me, or something? I mean…you two know each other, he thought you might be his sister, maybe he'd…" Her voice trailed off.

Leslie smiled sympathetically. "I do love Christian, in a way I didn't know I could love any man. My life would be worthless without him. And I can understand your hopes to be presented to Scott in the best possible light. But the fact is, when you get down to it, the only one who can decide what he wants is Scott. I honestly don't think I could do any good even if I did step in. It's not like we're lifelong buddies because we thought we might have the same father at one point. He was one of our guests, like anybody else. For that matter, I haven't even seen him since he and his fiancée arrived here."

"Oh," mumbled Mandy, deflated. "So if I can't convince him on my own, then…"

Leslie held her silence, pulling up in front of the bungalow that had been assigned to Mandy and parking the car. Mandy sat for a moment staring at her feet, then drew herself up straight and gave Leslie a somewhat tremulous smile. "Mr. Roarke was right to have you bring me here. I guess I need to really think about what I'm going to tell Scott."

Leslie smiled back. "I wish you luck, Ms. Enderling…"

"Call me Mandy, please. I think we're probably close to the same age, and it seems awfully formal anyway. If I need any help…" Mandy paused, then ventured, "Would you be willing to make any suggestions?"

"I could try, I guess," Leslie said doubtfully, "but I think it's better that as much of this as possible comes from you, Mandy. You're the one who has to persuade Scott that he'd be better off taking you back than marrying this other woman. And I think it'd sound more convincing if it was all in your own words…you know?"

Mandy nodded faintly, slowly, absorbing this. "You have a point. But it might help if you could…oh, I don't know…suggest a different way of saying something. You see, I tend to be kind of blunt most of the time, at least with most people. I want to soften my approach, so Scott will see I've really changed."

Leslie considered that, then said, "Tell you what. You go ahead and work on whatever you want to tell Scott. Then maybe I could come over here to get you about half an hour earlier than Father suggested, and if there's something you think you need some help with, we could work on it then."

"Terrific," Mandy agreed immediately, lighting up with relief. "That'd be great, thanks so much, Leslie. I feel a little better now." She grinned, then swung out of the car and grabbed her luggage out of the back seat. "See you in a couple hours or so!"

Leslie watched her retreat into the bungalow and sighed to herself. _What've you got yourself into now, Leslie Susan, you goofball? Wait till Christian hears that one!_ She sighed, rolled her eyes to herself and put the car in motion. Christian might laugh and take it in stride; but she wasn't as certain Roarke would take it so well.


	2. Chapter 2

§ § § -- April 24, 2004

Mandy Enderling often found it easiest to think when she was doing something, as opposed to sitting and staring into space. So she began unpacking her suitcases and putting clothes away in the closet in the beautiful, airy bedroom, letting her mind run at whatever speed it felt like doing. Now and then, when she had a thought that seemed useful, she interrupted herself long enough to write it down on the little complimentary notepad she had found atop the chest of drawers. The pencil was a small kelly-green golf pencil with the words _Fantasy Island Resort_ stamped on it in gold; she thought she'd keep it for a souvenir when she went home—with Scott, she hoped.

By the time she was finished hanging up clothes, she had several thoughts she wanted to expand on, and took the notepad and pencil out to the main room to consider it. She hardly noticed the passage of time, and when Leslie arrived a little past eleven, she was actually surprised to realize how late it was. "Hi, Leslie."

"Hi, Mandy. How're you doing?" Leslie asked curiously.

Mandy said, "Well, I thought at first about writing a script of some sort, but then I pictured it…I mean, it'd look really stupid if I whipped out a bunch of sheets of paper in front of Scott so I could remember exactly what I wanted to tell him. So I guess I'll have to make my little speeches on the fly…but I thought I could at least memorize the main points."

"That makes sense," Leslie agreed. "So what're you planning to tell him?"

"I think I'll start by asking him if he managed to find his dad," Mandy said thoughtfully, slowly pacing the floor while Leslie stood nearby and watched, "and then when he tells me, I'll congratulate him…I'll be really warm and happy about it, for him."

"Good idea," said Leslie encouragingly. "Draw him into a conversation."

"Right!" Mandy agreed, brightening again. "Then I'll tell him how glad I am, and that I'm sorry I didn't support him more when he was still searching…and that my life's been very lonely without him, and I've missed him…and I'd love it, and really appreciate it, if he could find it in him to give me another chance."

Leslie grinned. "That sounds good to me. See, you really didn't need my help at all."

"I guess not," Mandy said and laughed nervously. "I just hope he's willing to listen." She drew herself up to her full height and put a determined look on her face. "Where's Scott now? That is, I hope I won't have to try to talk to him while he's picking out his wedding tux or something like that. It might be even harder for me to…well…"

"I know what you mean," Leslie said. "Actually, right now Father tells me he's at the pool relaxing. I guess he's done all he can do as far as wedding preparations are going, and he's taking it easy. You might think about changing into a bathing suit and looking a little more casual, by the way. You're not going in for a business takeover, after all."

Mandy's face went hot. "That's a good point. I'll be right out." She scuttled into the bedroom, pushed the door shut and hurriedly changed her clothes, wondering why she hadn't thought to do it earlier. "Easy, stupid," she told herself. "You were so busy thinking up something convincing to tell Scott, it never crossed your mind." She shook her head at herself, smiling wryly, and found a mesh cover-up to wear over her suit before unearthing a bottle of sunscreen and tucking it, her bungalow key and a few other items into a small tote bag and then emerging from the bedroom. "All set."

Leslie grinned. "Looking good," she said. "Let's go."

The two women walked this time, taking a jungle path that was liberally lined with all sorts of colorful, exotic tropical flowers, till they emerged into a small clearing on the other side of which they could see the pool. It was fairly crowded, and Mandy felt a few tendrils of panic; but Leslie led her without hesitation to the edge of the paved area around the pool, paused a moment to scan the throngs, then smiled. "There he is," she said, gesturing at an umbrella-shaded table. "And he's alone, so that means he's taking it easy and giving himself a break. Here's your chance, Mandy…and good luck."

"I think I'm going to need it," Mandy said, biting her lip and giving Leslie an almost pleading look. "My knees are actually shaking."

Leslie grinned again and said, "Just take it as a sign of how much you still love him. Like I said, good luck. See you later on." She turned and made her way back across the clearing; Mandy stood and watched her for a moment, then put her attention resolutely to her mission. She was scared to death, but she knew if she chickened out of this, she'd never be able to forgive herself later on. So she waded into the crowd and threaded her way through the throng till she was a few feet from Scott's table, with a knot of laughing teenagers in front of her.

For a moment Mandy studied Scott. He hadn't changed very much from the way she remembered him: he was still sandy blond, still had the mustache that had always tickled her upper lip whenever they kissed, the same blue eyes that had made her wish hers were that color. Most people would have described him as average-looking; but Mandy found him charming, ticklish mustache, cleft chin and all. As she stood there watching him, he reached out for a glass of some bright-red decoction with his right hand, flexing the fingers and seemingly dislocating his thumb. She saw him mutter something to himself, give his hand a shake to get the thumb back into place, and pick up his glass, turning a page in the magazine he was reading while he savored a long sip of his drink. Mandy had to smile. That double-jointed thumb of his used to repulse her, and she knew it was a measure of her maturation that now she found it endearing, realizing she'd missed the way it used to pop aside in a direction all its own from time to time.

Still smiling, she stepped forward and hesitantly rested her hands on the back of the chair opposite the one Scott occupied. The movement caught his attention and he looked up, then gawked, his mouth falling open. The glass began to slide from his hand and he hastily set it back on the table before it fell. "Good God!" he uttered. "Mandy?"

"Hi, Scott," she said, feeling a little shy and a lot sheepish, but hoping that once he got over the shock of seeing her there, he wouldn't mind her company. "Okay if I sit down?"

He stared at her, blinking once or twice in slow motion, then shut his mouth and shifted in the chair so that he sat up straighter. "What're you doing here?"

Mandy pulled out the chair and sat. "I was looking for you," she said.

"Why?" Scott asked bluntly.

Mandy cleared her throat; it wasn't going quite the way she had rehearsed it back in her bungalow. "I…well…" She bit her lip, swallowed and took a breath. "I just wondered…did you find your birth father? I know you really hoped to."

Scott peered oddly at her for a moment, then said warily, "Yeah, I did…had to come here to do it, but that's okay. Mr. Roarke and Leslie Enstad helped."

"Tell me about it," Mandy said hopefully, wide-eyed, leaning forward over the table with her hands clasped in front of her on its surface.

Obviously this was baffling Scott; she could see by his expression that he was very leery of her, after all the grief she had given him in the past about his search. "Well…at first I thought my biological father was the same as Leslie's. My mother had been involved with him the year before I was born, and the dates matched up…so it just made sense to me. But DNA testing proved I wasn't Michael Hamilton's son. One of the letters he'd left my mother gave us a clue as to someone else she had known, and we tracked him down in California and found out he was my real dad."

Mandy brightened. "That's wonderful!" she exclaimed, visibly astounding Scott, who reared back slightly in his seat and blinked at her again. "Tell me about him, please?"

He gave her a long, cautious look this time before asking, "You're actually interested?"

"Absolutely," Mandy insisted, sincerely eager to hear the story. "Really, Scott, I think it's a wonderful thing. Do you have a relationship with him?"

Scott nodded a little, still eyeballing her. "Yeah, I do. I changed my flight reservations after I left this island so we could meet in L.A., and we clicked right off the bat. There was no mistaking him—I always thought I looked like my mother, but I could see I got my hair and my eye color from him, not to mention this ridiculous double-jointed thumb of mine." He wiggled it in what Mandy knew to be an automatic motion, then seemed to realize what he had done and snatched the hand away out of sight, under the table. "Uh…"

But Mandy giggled. "That must have been a revelation," she said, "meeting someone else with a thumb that could move like that. Please, tell me more."

"Are you sure you're Mandy?" Scott wanted to know, squinting suspiciously at her. "The real Mandy thought that thumb was the most revolting thing she'd ever seen, and she said my quest for my father was a hopeless cause and I was shutting her out because of my devotion to it. Who are you, her identical twin?"

"No, I'm her. I mean, I'm me. I'm Mandy," Mandy stammered, stopping and clearing her throat again, softening her voice. "Really, Scott, it's truly me. I think it's wonderful you found your father. What happened after you met?"

"We had coffee, and we talked about my mother," Scott said guardedly, still watching her, as if he expected an alien to explode out of her stomach. "He told me about her as he knew her when they were in school together, and I told him about her the way I remember her in my childhood and my teen years. Then we got to know each other, and we must have spent two hours just talking. Then he asked me if I could schedule a visit to his home, spend some time with him, so we could get to really know each other. I was all for it. His name's Augustus Haraldsen and he's originally from Denmark; I have some relatives over there. He never married anyone else or had any other kids, so I think he was happy to know I was here. Heck," he said with a diffident shrug, "I even started calling him Dad not long ago. It thrilled his socks off." He grinned foolishly, then seemed to remember whom he was talking to and sobered instantly, making Mandy bite her lip again.

"I think that's really beautiful, Scott," she said softly. "Honestly, I'm so happy for you. It would be wonderful if I could meet him sometime."

Scott frosted over, his expression sealing, and Mandy winced. She'd pushed it too far. "What makes you think you could do that?" he asked coolly. "Don't forget, you're my _ex_-wife. There wouldn't be any reason for you to meet him, especially since you were so annoyed by my search for him to begin with."

Mandy began twisting her fingers and pulling at them again. "Well…that's the biggest reason I'm here. I'm sorry, Scott, I'm so sorry I was so cold and callous about your search for your father. I should have been more supportive, and I wish I could go back and change the way I reacted." She leaned even farther forward, ready to beg if she had to. "My life's been so lonely without you in it, Scott. I've missed you. I was just plain stupid, asking for a divorce, and I can't begin to tell you how much I regret it."

Scott sat there staring at her till she began to wonder if he had heard her; then he heaved a sigh and shook his head. "What a hell of a development," he remarked acerbically. "On the eve of my wedding to a sweetheart of a girl, my ex-wife shows up and apologizes. Not three years ago when I'd have killed to hear what you just said, not even fifteen months ago when I first met Rochelle and kept comparing her to you. No, you had to wait till I finally got over you and fell in love with Rochelle, and _then_ you dropped in and said the words I wanted to hear back then."

Mandy's face felt so hot, she wondered how red it must be. "Scott, I know it seems like nothing…but…I mean…I'm not kidding you, and I'm really not trying to put one over on you. Please…"

But Scott was already shaking his head. "I'm sorry too, Mandy. Sorry that you didn't see the light before this, and sorry to have to tell you that you're too late. I love Rochelle, she loves me, and I'm going through with my wedding tomorrow." He sat watching her, as if he expected some particular reaction from her.

Mandy stared at him, at a complete loss for words. The beginnings of six or seven protests flashed through her mind, were just as speedily rejected for inadequacy, and left her without another thing to say that might further her cause. Her eyes began to burn with impending tears, and she closed her open mouth and fought to keep her breathing even and her throat open. It took all her effort, so that even if she had had words, she wouldn't have been able to say them anyway. _For God's sake, Mandy, don't you dare cry in front of him. He still thinks you're a selfish little brat, and crying would just send him the message that you're still as immature as you ever were. Be an adult and don't cry!_

"Well," Scott said with a half-shrug, "if you don't mind, I've got someplace else I have to be." He picked up his drink and magazine and left the table. Mandy sat unmoving, her heart sinking, the tears pooling and overflowing despite her best efforts.

‡ ‡ ‡

Leslie returned to the pool to make a checkup with the bartender there at about two, and was astonished to see Mandy Enderling sitting alone at a table, staring sightlessly into space. She stopped and said questioningly, "Mandy, are you okay?"

Mandy blinked at Leslie, and just like that, the tears that she'd managed to quit shedding a few hours ago flooded her eyes. "No," she managed.

Leslie immediately sat down. "What happened?" Mandy told her story, and Leslie frowned thoughtfully, chin in hand. "Okay," she said after a moment, "so what are you planning to do next?"

Mandy stared at her. "What is there _to_ do? He let me talk, Leslie, but he didn't believe a word I said! He said he's finally gotten over me. I don't stand a chance!"

"Hmm," murmured Leslie, turning that over, studying Mandy. "So in other words, since Scott's reaction was so discouraging, you're going to just give up."

Mandy opened her mouth, but nothing came out; and Leslie smiled. "You told Father and me that you really want Scott back—that your life just wasn't right without him. If that's really true, then you have to keep fighting. Did you actually use up all your arguments on him? Did you say everything you wanted to say to him?"

"N…no," Mandy admitted, blinking.

"Then gather up the rest of your ammunition, polish it up, and gear up for Round Two," Leslie said whimsically, grinning at her. "Don't give up just yet, not if you want him back that badly. Look, I know where he is now. He's still trying to relax in the face of all the frothy chaos of the wedding, so he's gone over to the casino. I'll take you there."

Mandy followed Leslie to the casino, which was located along still another footpath that at one point crossed an attractive pedestrian bridge over the Ring Road, and ventured in on her hostess' heels. She was so busy peering around that she nearly lost Leslie, who headed straight to the back where the blackjack tables were. Suddenly something crossed Mandy's mind and she caught up with Leslie enough to stop her and ask, "Is Scott actually gambling? I mean…"

"No, he's just watching," Leslie assured her. "This is actually a pretty high-stakes casino, so anyone who isn't rich but still wants to gamble will have to bring a fistful of money saved for the purpose. Believe me, there are as many spectators in here as there are gamblers. Come on, he's standing over here watching some of them." She led the way to a long table in the very back of the room, and sure enough, there was Scott, lounging against the wall with one shoulder and following every move. "Go ahead," she whispered.

"Would you come with me?" Mandy asked, suddenly cowed.

Leslie half-smiled with gentle mock reproach. "Mandy, this is your fight, not mine. You're the one who wants him back, so go for it. Good luck." Her smile went from half to full before she turned and departed.

Mandy sighed to herself. She probably had a point; but after Scott's reaction at the pool, now she was even more scared than she'd been then. _But I paid good money for this, and I have to keep at it if I don't want to find that I wasted it all on a fantasy that couldn't be granted. Okay, Scott, here I come again. I'm going to be the bane of your existence till you finally see the light!_ She strode in his direction, breathing deeply for extra courage.

‡ ‡ ‡

Leslie returned to the main house, rubbing her stomach where a triplet had unexpectedly given her an energetic kick, and eased into one of the chairs in front of Roarke's desk, picking up a pile of the ever-present mail to check for new fantasy requests. This had always been one of her favorite aspects of her job; the requests came from all four corners of the earth, from adults and children, from males and females, and ranged from the ordinary to the decidedly unique. Leslie especially enjoyed getting requests from countries other than the U.S. and Canada, which were the biggest sources of their customers by far.

She had just discovered a letter with stamps from Lilla Jordsö when Roarke came in and saw her there. "I thought you would be with Ms. Enderling," he remarked in surprise, descending from the foyer and going behind the desk. "Hadn't you planned to monitor whatever progress she may or may not make with her ex-husband?"

"It wasn't my intention," Leslie said, watching him sit down. "Why?"

"Ms. Enderling appeared to find you something of a confidante, if I may," her father remarked with a touch of humor, making her freeze in her chair and gape at him, wondering how he had known that. "It seemed to me that she had hoped for your assistance in winning the man back."

"Father, he's _her_ ex, not mine," Leslie protested. "Whatever she needs to say to get him back, only she knows. It's not as if I could put words in her mouth."

Roarke smiled. "Perhaps not, but she might look to you for help in the delivery of those words. Do you not recall her saying that she can be blunt and impatient?"

"Well, she did say something to that extent," Leslie said. "But so far she hasn't really needed my help. She wanted me to bring her up to Scott at the casino—"

"Why didn't you?" Roarke broke in, voice curious.

"Because this is Mandy's job, Father, not mine. She's the one who needs to make Scott believe it's in his best interests to take her back."

Roarke absorbed that for a few seconds, then inquired, "You said she asked you to 'bring her up to' him? You couldn't have just done that and then left?"

"No," said Leslie, her voice carrying a thread of indignation and another of self-defense, which Roarke didn't miss.

"Why not?" he asked.

Leslie looked at him warily for a moment, then sighed softly and said with reluctance, "If I keep saying, 'Hi, Scott, here's Mandy, she'd like to talk to you', pretty soon he's going to associate me with her. And every time he sees me he'll put up his guard at the very least, give me the evil eye at the worst. Mandy's the one who wants him back. Let her handle any negative feelings Scott might have."

Roarke chuckled. "In other words," he teased, "you're chicken."

"You bet your last slice of pineapple I am," Leslie said emphatically, then blinked and set the mail aside, forgotten. "Speaking of pineapple, I just got this intense craving. Maybe Mariki has some in the kitchen…with French-vanilla ice cream…" She pushed herself out of her chair and headed for the kitchen, leaving Roarke laughing quietly and shaking his head.


	3. Chapter 3

§ § § -- April 24, 2004

"Exciting, isn't it?" Mandy remarked, peering over Scott's shoulder at the ongoing blackjack game. He started violently, whipping his head around, and then glared.

"What're you doing here, Mandy?" he demanded, exasperated.

"Looking for you," she told him. "I haven't said everything I want to say to you."

Scott's eyebrows shot up towards his hair. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," said Mandy and managed to grin at him. "I know you think otherwise, but I'm really not trying to make your life miserable. I just want the chance to let you know that I'm not the same woman who walked out on you. I'm different. I've changed."

She had to be honest with herself—she couldn't really blame Scott for the skeptical look that settled over his features. "Is that so? And how exactly are you different?"

"I've grown up, Scott," Mandy said in quiet earnest. "The time since I left you has given me a chance to think about things, to experience more…to regret the thoughtless and stupid things I did to you when we were married. I can't change what I did back then, but I wish you could see fit to…" She hesitated.

"You already apologized," Scott said shortly. "It was too little too late, remember?"

"Scott, please, don't just dismiss me," Mandy begged. "Can't you give me a chance?"

Scott turned on her, heedless of a few heads that swiveled toward them. "Look, Mandy, I'm not too inclined to give you a chance for much of anything. I still remember trying to explain to you years ago that finding my dad was very important to me, and why, but you didn't want to hear me. Let's see how _you_ like not being listened to." He ducked around her and stalked away.

Mandy blinked after him, then caught her breath and plunged into the crowd after him, trying to keep him in her sights. Somehow, though, the casino had attracted dozens of extra guests since Leslie had brought her here, and before she knew it she had lost Scott altogether. When she burst out the door and swung her head frantically in each direction without seeing him, she groaned aloud and savagely kicked a loose pebble. Just when she had been getting warmed up! She turned to her left and set off to try to find him again.

By that evening Mandy had managed to encounter Scott twice more; each time he was more annoyed with her than before, and each time he managed to disappear on her a little sooner than the last time. At the luau she ran into Leslie again; as it happened, she was with Christian, who was sharing a plate loaded with pineapple with her. "Oh…hi, Mandy," said Leslie around a mouthful of fruit.

"Hi, Leslie," Mandy said, glancing at Christian and then finding herself unable to take her eyes away, for the sheer shock of seeing him in person. "Oh…you must be Prince Christian…my gosh, you've got to be the best-looking prince in existence."

Christian's eyes widened with enormous amusement and he raised an eyebrow, which brought home to Mandy how inane she'd just sounded. "I appreciate the compliment, although I'm afraid my wife might not," he said humorously.

Leslie swallowed her fruit and laughed. "Well, I tell you what, I'm not going to argue with her, my love," she said cheerfully, and Christian chuckled. "So, Mandy, what can I do for you? Did you find Scott?"

"Is he here? That's what I meant to ask you," Mandy said.

"Well, from what Father said a while ago, he was planning to come here with Rochelle, his fiancée, and relax a little bit. You know, night before the wedding and all that." She speared two pineapple chunks with her fork. "Father also said that Scott mentioned he was being harassed by you. His words."

"Uh-oh," said Christian with a sympathetic little half-smile.

Mandy shrugged. "Well, I'm not gonna let that stop me," she said. "Scott keeps trying to discourage me, but I won't let him. Somehow I have to convince him that I really want him back." She looked at Christian a little timidly, then ventured, "You're a man, you'd have a better idea how men might think. What do you think my chances are?"

Christian blinked while Leslie grinned at him. "I'm sure I don't know," he said after a moment. "I couldn't even put myself in Scott's place, to be honest with you. If somehow I were ever to lose Leslie, I would be utterly unable to fall in love with another woman, and if Leslie came back, I'd take her instantly. Scott clearly is quite different…" He paused as if something had occurred to him, and Mandy waited hopefully, biting her lower lip and once more twisting her fingers. As soon as she realized she was doing it, she yanked her hands apart again. "I spoke with him briefly on his first visit here," Christian said slowly, clearly replaying a memory, "and I seem to recall that he called you 'the love of his life'." He looked up and smiled again. "Perhaps you might remind him of that."

Mandy stared at him, hope exploding inside her. "He really said that?"

"He really did," Leslie said, nodding. "I remember that too."

"No kidding," Mandy murmured, touched and wistful. "Wow." She looked up at Christian and Leslie, who both watched her with friendly, open expressions, as if waiting for some further comment from her. Then she frowned. "But if I'm the love of Scott's life, then what's he doing with this Rochelle person? Obviously my status has changed since then."

Christian and Leslie both laughed softly. "Isn't your fantasy to get him back?" Leslie prompted. "That's supposed to be the job you gave yourself this weekend, to change your status right back to what it used to be."

"But he won't even listen to me!" Mandy protested.

"We didn't say it'd be easy," Leslie reminded her gently.

Mandy gave her a look that made Christian burst out laughing. "But I didn't expect it to be this hard, either," she complained and rolled her eyes, just as Roarke joined them.

"Perhaps you didn't, Ms. Enderling," Roarke said, catching her surprised attention, "but it has been said on many occasions that anything worth having is never easy to procure. If your former husband means so much to you, and if you are truly so determined to be part of his life once more, then you must continue trying. Do whatever it takes."

"Mr. Roarke, he won't even listen to me anymore," Mandy protested plaintively, her eyes filling with tears again in spite of herself.

Roarke smiled. "I won't deny that you have your work cut out for you," he said sympathetically. "Mr. Enderling himself was in my office earlier this afternoon and let it be known, in somewhat indignant fashion, that his ex-wife was 'harassing' him, as he put it, and he wanted something done about it."

"What'd you tell him?" Mandy asked.

"I asked him precisely how he felt he was being harassed, and he said that he had been encountering you constantly all day and that you kept insisting on speaking with him," Roarke told her. "To which I replied that requests for a conversation might be annoying, but they aren't illegal." He caught Leslie's broad grin and the snicker Christian tried unsuccessfully to control, and said with a grin of his own, "At least, not on Fantasy Island."

The Enstads both laughed, and even Mandy had to giggle. "Well, that's a relief," she said and grinned foolishly at Roarke. "I thought for a few minutes there that I might be arrested." Again they laughed, and she shook her head and sighed. "It's incredibly discouraging, though, Mr. Roarke. At the casino he told me that whenever he tried to explain to me his need to find his father, I wouldn't listen, and now he wants me to know how it feels."

"How _does_ it feel, Ms. Enderling?" Roarke asked.

"Horrible!" Mandy said emphatically, the tears welling up again. "It makes me realize just how selfish and stupid and uncaring I really was. Mr. Roarke…how can I possibly prove to him that I'm different, that I've changed, when he won't listen to me?"

Roarke said, "All you can do, Ms. Enderling, is persevere." He considered for a few seconds while Christian and Leslie watched him curiously and Mandy stared at him, waiting to see if he might have an unexpected pearl of wisdom she could seize upon. "You might try doing something completely unorthodox," he said at last. "Something you might never normally have even considered doing—something no one could possibly expect."

"Like what?" Mandy asked eagerly.

But Roarke merely smiled. "That's up to you, Ms. Enderling," he said. "And I'm sure that, after some thought, you'll develop an idea." His attention was suddenly ensnared and he glanced up, past Christian's shoulder. "In the meantime, if you wish another opportunity to speak with Mr. Enderling, you'll find him at the buffet just this moment. I'd hurry if I were you…he's filling two plates."

Mandy followed his gaze and saw that he was right. She drew in another fortifying breath, tried to get hold of her emotions, and cleared her throat. "Here I go again," she muttered and headed in Scott's direction.

Christian, Leslie and Roarke all looked after her, watching her approach Scott and say something to him, only to have him turn and glare at her. "Maybe someone should talk to him," Leslie mused. "Try to explain to him that Mandy has something to say…"

"An excellent idea, Leslie," Roarke said with approval. "Why don't you do that."

Leslie gave him a startled, wide-eyed look, and Christian laughed. "It looks to me as if the idea doesn't sit very well with you," he remarked.

"Not really," Leslie admitted, glancing at Roarke, "but on the other hand, it'd beat just presenting Mandy to him every time she wanted to say something and having him associate me with her, as I was telling Father this afternoon." She let her gaze stray to Scott and Mandy. "Unfortunately, I probably wouldn't get very far, judging from his reaction to her right now."

At that exact moment Scott was saying, "Dammit, Mandy, what's it gonna take to get you to back off? I've told you and told you, it's all over!"

"Oh, come on," Mandy exclaimed. "I have it from reliable sources that I'm the love of your life. If that's true, how can you keep pushing me away?"

Scott glared at her. "I thought you were, at one time," he said, "but things change, Mandy. Circumstances change and people change. You're not the one-and-only love of my life, not anymore. I told you, I got over you, and I love Rochelle."

"But are you _in love _with her?" Mandy challenged. "There's a difference."

"Don't argue semantics with me, damn you!" Scott nearly shouted at her. "This is the end of the line, you understand? Don't come near me again—just leave me alone, and I mean it, Mandy! There's nothing you have to say that I want to hear!"

"Scott, just one chance!" Mandy cried desperately. "Please!"

"No!" he spat and left her standing there, toting his two plates away with him. But Mandy wasn't quite ready to admit defeat, and ran after him, managing somehow to duck in front of him.

"I'm not finished, Scott Enderling," she declared angrily. "I spent a lot of money and went to a lot of trouble to come here and plead my case to you. I've been trying and trying in good faith, because I'm not the same woman who divorced you. I can't seem to get that across to you. I _am_ different. Why can't you give me just one chance to prove it?"

Scott growled low in his throat and thrust his head forward. "Look, Mandy, I'm going to tell you one last time. I waited for you for three solid years…more than that. You had all that time to come around, to realize that you were different and you wanted to try again. I don't know how long you claim to have felt this way, but you need to get one thing straight. It's _TOO LATE!_ You hear me? I left you a message on your answering machine one day almost three years ago, right after I came here the first time, asking if you'd be interested in getting together for lunch or something. You never called back. I see no reason to waste my time on someone who obviously wants nothing to do with me."

"But that's not true anymore," Mandy wailed. "I want _everything_ to do with you! I know I was dumb, I know I was too thickheaded to get the idea right away when I should have. I wish you'd believe how much I wish I'd grown up sooner. I wish you'd at least accept my apologies—"

"I already did that," Scott snapped. "Fine, so you're different and you've changed. That's just great and wonderful for you. But it didn't happen soon enough. More than that, how do I know you won't revert right back? How do I know you won't find some other reason to walk out on me? For the last time, Mandy, _leave me alone!"_ He stalked away again, and this time she let him go, tears instantly flooding her eyes.

Someone jostled her shoulder and she heard an absentminded apology, but she didn't bother acknowledging it. She'd absorbed all she could take, and she didn't have the capacity to withstand any more of Scott's fierce rejections. Mandy pushed her way out of the clearing and stumbled back toward her bungalow, half blind with tears and wondering if her despair would allow her to get any sleep that night.

§ § § -- April 25, 2004

"Surprise, Leslie!" shouted the voices as soon as Leslie stepped into the inner foyer, shocking her enough to make her freeze in her tracks and stare into the study. From where she stood, she could see Camille, Myeko, Tabitha, Katsumi, Maureen and Lauren sitting around the tea table, which was piled with gifts. Lauren's ten-week-old son, Kevin, slept in his stroller beside her.

Finally Leslie found some of her wits and took several hesitant steps forward, staring at her friends and all the wrapped packages on the table. "What on earth is this?"

"We figured it was time you had a baby shower," Myeko told her. "Maureen reminded us that multiple babies have a habit of showing up before they're really supposed to, so we decided this was as good a time as any, while you still have some chance of getting through the whole thing without going into labor on us."

"You guys are unbelievable," Leslie said, beginning to grin despite herself. "Just wait till I tell Christian how this happened. Hey, where's Father?"

"He stepped out for about an hour," said Tabitha.

"Right," Camille said. "Said he had some rounds to make anyway, so we might as well make your morning right here in the main house where you'd least expect it."

"And _when_ I'd least expect it, too," Leslie agreed, shaking her head and laughing. "I sure never would've thought you'd set it up for a Sunday. You're all really too much."

"Oh, sit down and hush," Maureen said cheerfully. She herself was visibly pregnant, just a couple of weeks or so behind Leslie but undoubtedly slated to give birth later, since it had been shown that her baby was a singleton. "Katsumi and Myeko and Tabitha and I all have to work tomorrow, and Lauren's going back on the boat with Brian. So it had to be today, before you got to your seventh month and we started really running the risk of having the shower after the triplets get here."

Leslie settled with some effort into the chair her friends had set aside for her. "That makes sense. If this was meant to be a surprise party, there's no way it could have been more of a surprise than this."

She had opened four gifts when Mariki came in with a loaded tray that sported a small wrapped package in the middle. "Refreshments, ladies," she said, "and for you, Miss Leslie, a little something you'll be able to use in another six months or so." She set the tray on a cleared section of the table, picked up the package and handed it to Leslie, who tore away the paper and revealed a small blank book. Opening it, she found a number of recipes inside. Mariki said, "They're recipes for homemade baby food. Much healthier if you can make it fresh for those little tykes."

"Wow," said Leslie, astonished. "I hope I'll have time for it, with three of them."

Mariki grinned. "You'll find time, Miss Leslie, and if you don't, I'll take care of it for you. But I certainly thought you could use it."

"I'll try to make time," Leslie said and grinned at her. "Thank you, Mariki."

Some little time later she surveyed the items she'd received. There were blankets, crib sheets and pillows, adorable sleep outfits, a few stuffed animals, and—thanks to Camille—three small T-shirts each bearing the legend _FANTASY ISLAND NATIVE_, which had made Leslie chortle with delight. She grinned at her friends. "You guys are the greatest. I can't wait to see the look on Christian's face when he sees these…especially those shirts." They all laughed, and Katsumi automatically began to refill juice glasses and coffee mugs, desisting in startled surprise when her friends protested.

"I am sorry," she said sheepishly, resuming her seat. "I work in teahouse too long, I think! Now I cannot imagine being only guest."

"For the moment, you are merely that," Roarke said from the shutters, making them all turn to look at him. "I stopped in town to let Christian know about the shower, so he will be here for lunch and will take everything home with him then. However, there are two more items for you, Leslie, and I want to be sure you receive them before we both have to go back to our usual routine." He turned and signaled at someone they couldn't see, and a few seconds later two of the native girls wheeled in a stroller that could hold three.

Leslie and her friends all gasped at once and stood up to get a better look. Amid the _oohs_ and _ahhs_ and the assertions that none of them had seen, or heard of, a stroller that could seat three, Leslie went to Roarke and hugged him. "This is perfect, Father…thank you!"

"Not only that," Roarke said with a smile, handing her an envelope, "but you and Christian, and undoubtedly Princess Margareta, will find this very useful." He nodded at her, and she tore open the envelope while her friends looked on, revealing a certificate for a year's worth of assistance from a diaper service. That got more admiring and envious remarks, and Maureen was heard to say she hoped someone would do that for her!

Once the party had broken up and everyone was gone, Mariki came in to clear away the refreshments, while Leslie stacked gifts on the loveseat and Roarke set the stroller aside. Leslie looked up. "What time are you supposed to perform Scott Enderling's wedding, Father?" she asked. Scott and Rochelle, she had learned, had requested that he officiate at their nuptials, and Leslie was still trying to decide whether she wanted to be there. She felt sorry enough for Mandy that she was afraid she'd feel a bit like a traitor if she went.

"At three o'clock," Roarke said. "Before the lunch hour comes around and Christian arrives, you might pay Ms. Enderling a visit and see how she is doing. When she departed the luau last evening, she was quite upset, and I fear she may give up after all."

Leslie made a soft humming noise, considering it. "I hope not," she said, "but I can see what you mean. She doesn't have very much time left, and I guess she might think it's no use to even try, this late on."

Roarke nodded. "I think it best if you look in on her," he said. "Take as long as you need—it's close enough to the lunch hour that you can simply return here for the meal when you've finished there. If there is any news, of course, let me know." Leslie nodded agreement and made her way out the door, taking her walk at a leisurely pace and trying to picture Christian's reaction to the baby-shower gifts.

When she reached Mandy's bungalow she took a deep breath and knocked, unsure of what she was going to encounter. But she definitely didn't expect to see Mandy's face filled with inspiration and new hope, as she did when their guest answered her summons. "Hi, Leslie!" Mandy exclaimed. "Come on in."

"Wow," Leslie commented, "you're certainly in a good mood."

Mandy smiled conspiratorially. "You bet I am," she said, "and that's because I had an incredible idea this morning over breakfast."

"No kidding," Leslie said, intrigued. "This I gotta hear. How'd you happen to think of it? I mean, last evening Father noticed that you looked pretty discouraged."

"Trust me, I was," Mandy confirmed, closing the door behind Leslie and accompanying her into the main room. "Here, have a seat. Well, it came to me after I went over what Mr. Roarke said last night about trying to think of something really unorthodox. I don't know how original this is, but here's my idea." She proceeded to tell Leslie what she'd come up with, and Leslie stared at her in astonishment.

"That'll probably infuriate him," she finally noted, blinking.

Mandy shrugged. "It's my last chance," she said. "I have to do something if I don't want my fantasy to be a total bust."

"Suppose it backfires?" Leslie ventured gently.

Mandy bit her lip, then frowned resolutely and said, "I'll worry about that later, if I have to. Right now I have to make sure my gut can handle this. I've never done anything like it before, and I don't know if I can go through with it, even though I know what hinges on it. I assume you're going to be there."

Leslie considered it just for a moment, then smiled. "I wouldn't miss it," she assured Mandy. "In fact, come a few minutes early, and I'll see if I can find you some unobtrusive place to sit where nobody'll see you too easily."

Half an hour later she was back at the main house, but she had no time to tell Roarke what was in the air, for Mariki was just about to serve lunch and Christian came in barely thirty seconds after Leslie returned. The two hugged each other, and Christian glanced at the pile of presents still sitting on the loveseat. _"Herregud,"_ he said, eyes widening. "I knew about the baby shower, but I had no idea there would be so many things. After all, there were only seven of you women. They must have contributed more than one item each."

"They did," Leslie said and went to poke through the pile. "Christian, my love, you have to see these. Camille managed to find three of them someplace." She unearthed one of the little T-shirts and displayed it at him, and he burst into laughter.

"Very clever—not to mention accurate!" he said, delighted.

Leslie nodded, giggling. "And look here—I wish I knew where Father got this." She indicated the stroller for three, and Christian whistled softly. "Not only that, he got us a year's subscription with a diaper service, which will make things far easier on all of us. We may have to change them, but we won't have to wash them or go buy more all the time."

"Wonderful," Christian agreed, nodding. "This is quite a windfall, my Rose. I had an e-mail from Margareta asking when we wanted her to be here. I've begun to get the feeling that she's eager to get away from Lilla Jordsö, for whatever reason she may have. She even said she's going to bring a servant with her."

"Good grief," said Leslie, amazed. "I guess we could move the futon from the living room to the guest suite, so the servant will have some place to sleep. I hope Margareta isn't too put off by the spartan furnishings."

"I warned her she'll have merely a bed, a dresser and mirror, and a closet," Christian said. "I think we can squeeze out a little cash to get her a nightstand somewhere, but I'm afraid that'll have to be all. We've laid out so much for the addition and the furniture, there's almost no extra left." He sighed. "And I have to get the monthly reports this week from Sundborg and London, so I can only hope that things have been going as well in those locations as they have here."

Leslie slipped her hand into his and squeezed it. "We'll be fine, my darling, don't worry. We don't necessarily have to dress the babies in anything other than sleepers for their first month or so, and we don't have to have the formal portrait done right away. We can wait till they're a couple or three weeks old, and by then we'll have had time to get the appropriate clothing to dress them up in, and it won't have to be a hassle. Maureen told me Brianna wore nothing but sleepers and onesies till she started crawling, and she plans to do the same thing with this baby."

Christian nodded thoughtfully and mused, "That sounds ideal. Babies don't care what they wear, and it will be easier on all of us." He looked up and slid his arm around her, smoothing a hand over her abdomen. "I love you, my Leslie Rose, you can't imagine how much. So then, what's on this afternoon's agenda? Anything exciting?"

"Just going to a wedding," Leslie said with a shrug. "Father won't be ending our other fantasy till about six or so, which is why supper's going to be late this evening, and the wedding's at three. So I guess it'll be a quiet afternoon."


	4. Chapter 4

§ § § -- April 25, 2004

Leslie stood in front of the altar with Roarke, her hands clasped around the bump containing the triplets, watching wedding guests file in. She glanced into the far corner on the bride's side, where Mandy Enderling sat, wearing an understated pale-peach dress and a matching broad-brimmed hat that pretty much hid her face as long as she kept her head low. Leslie caught a corner of her lower lip under a tooth and worried it back and forth for a second or two, telling herself not to fuss. Mandy's idea might not be foolproof, but Mandy alone was responsible for its success or failure. She chanced a look at her father, who gave her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Leslie," he said.

"I can't help it," she admitted, biting her lip again. "I've never actually seen anyone do what Mandy's planning to do. I'm scared it won't work."

Roarke cast a quick, covert glance towards the spot where Mandy sat and smiled again, making Leslie grateful she'd remembered to fill him in over lunch. The memory of Christian's reaction caused a bubble of merriment to well up within her and she had to swallow it back. Christian had stared at her and demanded, "And you approve?"

"Well, what other chance does she have?" Leslie had asked practically.

"I can only say," Christian had remarked, shaking his head with a dubious look on his face, "that I'm eternally grateful no one had that idea at our wedding. My best hope is that your guest doesn't sue you."

"My husband, the optimist," Leslie had said with a good-natured eye-roll, and Christian had half-grinned but refused to say any more on the subject. Remembering this now, Leslie began to wonder if maybe Christian hadn't been onto something there…

The guests began arriving in earnest, and about ten minutes before the ceremony was to start, a nervous-looking Scott Enderling appeared, with an older man at his side. He spotted Leslie and Roarke right away and headed straight up the aisle toward them, an eager look on his face. "Hi, Mr. Roarke," he said, shaking his host's hand. "I really appreciate this."

"It's my pleasure, Mr. Enderling," Roarke replied graciously, smiling.

Scott grinned and turned to Leslie. "Nice to see you again. I'm told there're triplets in there." He nodded at Leslie's stomach.

Leslie laughed and said, "Yep, there sure are. Christian and I were really startled when we first found out, but we've kind of gotten used to it." She and Scott laughed.

"Maybe Rochelle and I'll get lucky," Scott said. "Listen, I want you to meet someone. This is my dad, Augustus Haraldsen—he came out here just for this event. Dad, you know Mr. Roarke, of course. And this is Leslie Enstad—the lady I originally thought was my half-sister. She's the daughter of the guy Mom was involved with right after you had to go back to Denmark."

"Hello, Mr. Haraldsen," Leslie said with a smile, shaking hands with the tall, spare Dane. "It's really good to meet you."

"I'm pleased to meet you as well, Mrs. Enstad," Haraldsen replied with a warm smile, giving her a slight bow. "My son spoke well of you and Mr. Roarke both, when we first met. It's very kind of you both to agree to have Scott's wedding here, and Mr. Roarke, I must say I have never seen any other place on earth as beautiful as this island."

Roarke smiled broadly. "I am very pleased, Mr. Haraldsen," he said. "It's always a joy to me to know that my guests are happy during their stays here. I understand from your son that you and he have developed a very close relationship, and I was gratified to know that as well. How well do you know his fiancée?"

"Not especially well," Haraldsen said, in a soft-spoken manner that apparently was natural for him. "The young lady is rather shy and defers to Scott most of the time." Roarke and Leslie glanced at each other but didn't comment. "However, perhaps once they are married, she will open up a little more. Scott, I think I had better sit down…my bones aren't as resilient as they were once." He smiled and Scott grinned back at him, nodding.

Scott chatted a little longer with Roarke, while Leslie mostly just listened, managing to sneak in a surreptitious glance at Mandy a couple of times. Mandy's head was still down, but that didn't prevent her from looking around a bit. Leslie was sure she hadn't missed Scott's entrance with his father. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, resettled her stance and waited patiently for the ceremony to begin.

When Roarke caught her eye and nodded toward the empty seat in the front row on the groom's side, she wasted no time taking it, settling down with some relief. Standing was harder and harder on her back the further her pregnancy progressed. She made herself comfortable, exchanged a smile with Augustus Haraldsen, and twisted in her seat along with all the others when the wedding march began to ring out and the bride started down the aisle on her own father's arm. Leslie sighed gently to herself. She had to admit that Rochelle Tolliver was a pretty lady; but she looked to be not too far out of college, and wondered if Scott was beginning to suffer a bit of a midlife crisis_. He's only a couple of years younger than Christian,_ she thought. _He could be at just about the right age to have one of those stupid things, although I grant he_ is _a tad young for it. Still…what possesses guys to marry women half their age and even less? What's wrong with someone closer to their own age? I'm so glad Christian isn't like that. _ She knew Christian too well to even entertain the idea. Christian had already been married to a far younger woman, and it had merely made him scornful of those who did it deliberately. Now she hoped more than ever that Mandy's idea would work. At the very least it was going to make a real hash of things.

Rochelle and her father reached the end of the aisle and the man stepped back and took his seat. Scott smiled at Rochelle, who smiled back, and Roarke began the ceremony while everyone else watched in rapt silence. As the recitations progressed, Leslie's stomach began to develop a case of captive butterflies, and she felt the triplets twitching a little bit, as if in response.

Scott and Rochelle exchanged vows; then Roarke smiled, calm as a quiet pond, and said, "If anyone has just cause to show that this man and this woman should not be married, then speak now or forever hold your peace."

"I'm speaking now!" blurted a voice from the back. Leslie's breath came out in an explosion, startling her—she hadn't realized she'd been holding it. Fortunately for her, the sound was lost in the rustling of the entire congregation spinning abruptly around in their chairs to see who had spoken. Sure enough, it was Mandy Enderling, who had shot up out of her chair and even whipped her hat off so that she could be recognized. Leslie looked up front and saw in Scott's profile that he seemed to be stunned; Rochelle, on the other hand, was clearly infuriated that anyone dared interrupt her wedding.

"I see," said Roarke, looking mildly surprised. "What have you to say?"

"I want everyone here to know," Mandy said in a clear, strong voice that trembled just perceptibly, "that I made a mistake. I was married to Scott for several years…wonderful years. But I blew it. I treated him badly, I drove him away. I had some growing up to do, and it took me a long time to do it. It was the worst mistake of my life, divorcing him the way I did." She sucked in a breath and clutched her hat by the brim. "I really tried to move on with my life, but no matter who I saw, I never felt the same way about any of them as I did about Scott—not even close. My life's turned out to be a lot poorer without him in it, and nothing's as good as it used to be." Once more she breathed in, and Leslie could see her training her gaze specifically on a still-shocked Scott. "Scott, no matter what you believe, I just want you to know the truth. I love you. I still love you, and I'll always love you. Even if you decide to go through with this wedding, I'll still love you. There won't ever be anyone else for me. I…" She cleared her throat. "I'd still really love to meet your dad…if he'd like to…and I'd love to know the whole story about how he and your mom met…and I'm curious about what you're doing now, and how life is for you, and everything else. Just everything." One more inhalation. "There, now I've said most of what I wanted to say. I'm sorry, Scott, I'll be paying for what I did to you for the rest of my life, and I'll regret it till I die. If you do go ahead and marry Rochelle, then I wish you both the best. But I won't be remarrying, myself. I don't want anything less than what I had with you. If I had a second chance, I'd be totally different. I can't prove it to you except if you take the chance. But I can't make you do that." She sighed, then swallowed loudly. "I just wanted you to know that, Scott. I tried to tell you all weekend and you kept pushing me away, so I decided to do it this way so I could tell you the truth." She glanced around at the gathering, most of whom were gaping at her with open mouths. "I'm sorry for disturbing things like this. Uh…" Leslie could see Mandy's face turning red even from where she sat. "I'm sorry, Mr. Roarke…I'm really sorry, Scott. Please go on…" She ducked her head, then pivoted on one foot and scuttled away.

Rochelle's voice rang out all of a sudden. "How dare she! She had her chance, Scott. Now it's my turn! I'm the one you love…aren't I? _Aren't_ I?" She was clearly livid; her face was as red as Mandy's had been, and she was trembling from head to toe, so hard that everyone could easily see it.

Scott stared at her, then looked at Roarke, who smiled. "It's quite up to you, Mr. Enderling," he said gently. "Only you can make the decision."

Scott looked back out over the gathering, at the empty chair Mandy had had, then spun around and stared at Leslie, who involuntarily flinched and then wilted a little in her chair, certain she'd just given away her role in the whole thing. _"Scott!"_ Rochelle shrieked.

Scott whipped back around. "Rochelle, cut it out," he said sternly. "You're not doing yourself any favors, carrying on like that."

"But she's your ex-wife," Rochelle cried desperately. "Scott, I love you way more than she does. I love you more than she ever could, no matter what she says. I—"

"Miss Tolliver, please, calm yourself," Roarke said.

"I don't have to calm myself," shouted Rochelle. "She came in here on purpose and tried to ruin my wedding. This was the dream I've had all my life, to get married in an exotic place like this to a wonderful man, and she's come in here and just destroyed it!"

Rochelle's parents got to their feet. "Rochelle…" her father began.

"Stop making a spectacle of yourself, Rochelle Marie," her mother added, glancing back over the gathering and looking embarrassed.

"Please, Mr. and Mrs. Tolliver, why don't you have a seat," Roarke suggested. "Don't forget, the decision is that of Mr. Enderling, and I believe he needs a chance to think."

Scott turned back to Leslie and asked, "How much do you know about this?"

Leslie sighed softly. "Everything Mandy was willing to tell me," she admitted. "As a matter of fact, you can ask Father. This was Mandy's fantasy—she hoped to win you back."

"Huh?" Scott said blankly, looking at Roarke again and getting a nod of confirmation. He turned back to Leslie. "I kept wondering how the heck she knew where to find me, and why I didn't see much of you over the weekend, and…" He ran a hand through his hair and smoothed over his mustache. "I sure never thought she'd go to those lengths to get my attention. And for Mandy, of all people, to admit in front of a whole crowd like this that she was wrong…man, that was something I'd have bet money on _not_ seeing."

"Well, people do change," Leslie said with a faint smile.

"Yeah," Scott mumbled, "I guess so." He drew in a long breath, let it out, then shook his head and turned to Rochelle. "Look, Roche, I'm sorry, really…but hearing Mandy say all that, and seeing her do it right out in public…I guess it means she's serious. And to tell you the truth, as much as I tried to deny it to myself, I can't erase the fact that I do still love her. I told somebody once that Mandy was the love of my life. Well, I guess she still is." He gave a helpless shrug while Rochelle stared at him with rising outrage, her face going so red it looked almost purple. "I'm really sorry, but I can't go through with this wedding."

"Is that your final decision, Mr. Enderling?" Roarke inquired.

"Yup," Scott said and smiled a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry to put you to all this trouble for nothing, Mr. Roarke."

Roarke only shook his head, which was probably just as well since Rochelle began to shriek in outrage, tears streaming down her face. She hurled her bouquet out over the gathering and stormed off into the trees, her embarrassed and flustered parents hurrying after her. Meantime a group of women on Rochelle's side of the aisle flew screeching into the air from their seats, all trying to snag the discarded bouquet. Augustus Haraldsen had been looking on in astonishment all the while; now he turned to Leslie and asked, "Tell me, Mrs. Enstad, does this normally happen at weddings here?"

Leslie giggled helplessly. "Fortunately not!" she assured him. "I think, Mr. Haraldsen, that if things go the way I suspect they will, the next wedding you see will go off without a hitch, just the way it's supposed to!"

Before he could reply, a young man dressed in a tuxedo sidled up to them from the aisle; to Leslie's amused surprise, he was carrying Rochelle's bouquet. "Excuse me, Mrs. Enstad…sir," he said, clearing his throat. "I wonder if you could tell me which bungalow the Tollivers are staying in…?"

Roarke and Scott overheard, and while Scott stared, Roarke provided, "The Tollivers are actually staying at the hotel, Mr. Welch. If you go to the lobby and tell the desk clerks I sent you, they will give you the family's room number."

Welch grinned happily. "That's great. Y'know, Mr. Roarke, I didn't think it was gonna happen, but you did it after all. Thanks so much for granting my fantasy." Roarke smiled and nodded at him, and the young man sprinted off in the direction the Tollivers had gone, still clutching Rochelle's bouquet.

Leslie stared at her father. "His fantasy?" she said blankly. "What was it?"

Roarke grinned at her and explained, "Terence Welch grew up next door to Rochelle Tolliver and has been secretly in love with her for many years. He was devastated to learn of her impending wedding and pleaded with me to help him reveal his true feelings to her before it was too late. I believe Miss Tolliver will eventually have the dream wedding she so adamantly claimed was ruined here today."

"_Herre i himmel,"_ said Augustus Haraldsen in dazed Danish, staring at Roarke. "I am afraid you must forgive me, Mr. Roarke. This is a bit more excitement than I'm accustomed to seeing anywhere…even here, where I understand it's quite common."

Scott laughed aloud while Roarke chuckled apologetically. "Dad," Scott said, "I think all this worked out for the best, really. It's confusing as heck, I'll be the first to say so. But I have an idea. Mr. Roarke, if you think it's doable, could we try again? Say, around five?"

Roarke took out his pocket watch and looked at it, considered for a moment, then smiled and nodded, replacing the watch. "I believe it can be done, Mr. Enderling…but I would advise you to hurry."

"No problem," Scott said fervently. "Leslie, I'd really appreciate it if you'd do me a giant favor and take me to Mandy's bungalow."

"I'd be glad to," Leslie said, grinning. "Come with me."


	5. Chapter 5

§ § § -- April 25, 2004

Mandy wondered bitterly what was happening now. _Now that I've gone and wasted my breath,_ she thought, blowing her nose hard into another tissue. She had deliberately made an idiot of herself in front of all those people, and clearly all to no avail. What had she expected Scott to do anyway? _Face it, Mandy, you dingaling, you thought he'd see the light right then and there, didn't you, and that he'd shove that stupid Rochelle aside and come running back to you, in slow motion no less…just like in some brainless romance movie._ How could she have let herself indulge in such a silly notion in light of Scott's frigid reception of her all weekend long? She threw aside the sodden tissue, snagged another out of the box and mopped her face, then blew her nose again, even louder than before—enough in fact to almost drown out the sound of the knock on the door. She raised her head sharply, wondering if she was hearing things; after a few seconds there was another knock.

Figuring it was probably Leslie, she went to the door to ask to be left alone. But to her amazement, it was Scott, who was still clad in his wedding tuxedo, a slightly sheepish look on his face and a funny little smile half hiding under his mustache. "Hi, Mandy," he said softly. "Mind if I come in?"

"Oh…not at all…I mean, please, yes, come in," Mandy said and snapped her mouth shut on her babbling. Scott grinned outright and came in, his hands in his pockets.

"Nice bungalow," he remarked.

"Yeah," Mandy mumbled, wondering what he was doing here if that was all he had to say. She peered at him oddly. At least he wasn't hopping mad…_well,_ she amended sourly, _not yet. Give him a chance._ She sniffed loudly, scrubbed the tissue under her nose and asked, "So what brings you into enemy territory?"

Scott stopped just inside the main room and looked at her in astonishment. "Enemy territory?" he repeated, half laughing. "Mandy, you always did exaggerate."

"Huh," Mandy muttered, brushing past him in quest of the tissue box again. "So much for thinking I'd changed."

"Mandy, why don't you sit down and listen to me now," Scott suggested, coming up behind her and resting a hand on each of her shoulders. "You've been begging me to listen to you all weekend, and you forced me to just a little while ago. Now it's your turn. If you've changed as much as you say you have, then show me. Okay?"

Mandy slowly sat down and nodded in silence, waiting. Scott watched her, but when she didn't speak, he smiled a little and nodded once. "Okay then. I don't think of you as the enemy, for one thing. Matter of fact, I think you brought a couple of home truths to light." He blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair again. "I really thought I loved Rochelle, but now that I look at it, I have a feeling she sort of manipulated me. In any case, I was suckered right in—I was lonely, after all, and missing you, and there wasn't any chance of your coming back. So I gave up, and before I knew it I was engaged to the girl." He made a face. "She's only twenty-seven. Pretty mid-life-crisis of me, huh?"

Mandy smiled wanly. "What changed your mind?"

"You did," Scott told her. "You showed a lot of guts, Mandy, standing up in front of all those people and saying you were wrong and that you regretted it. It was the sort of thing I'd always wished you might say, but lost hope of hearing." His smile widened a little. "Anyway, I called off the wedding. Rochelle was rip-roaring mad. Threw her bouquet right into the audience and stomped off into the jungle. You should've seen how many women tried to go into orbit chasing that bouquet."

Mandy snickered, then grabbed the tissue box again when it collapsed into a sob that she hastily smothered in the next tissue. She gulped it back, then said helplessly, "Your dad must have thought I was completely insane."

Scott laughed and said, "Mostly he was just bewildered, I think. Well, once Rochelle took off and her parents went chasing after her, some scrawny kid came up front and asked Mr. Roarke where the Tollivers were staying. He'd managed to catch Rochelle's bouquet, which was particularly appropriate when Mr. Roarke told us that the guy's fantasy was to stop Rochelle's wedding to me because he'd been in love with her for years. I don't think Rochelle's gonna be pining after me for too long." He grinned whimsically. "So that leaves me…and you." His voice softened, his look grew intense and he leaned forward in his chair, studying her carefully. "Did you really mean that, about still being in love with me?"

"Every word of it," said Mandy, her voice thickening again. "It was my last chance to make you understand how I really feel, and I just poured out my heart. I didn't know what else to do." She stared at him earnestly. "Scott, I love you. I don't know how else to tell you. I love you so much—even more now than I did when I didn't realize what I had. All I ask is that you let me prove that I've grown up. I can be the wife to you now that I should've been the first time around. I don't care how long it takes to make you realize it, I'll be patient and I'll wait for you to see. I'll just keep proving it till—"

"Shut up, Mandy," Scott said tenderly, smiling at her. He half rose from his seat, swung around and sat back down, this time beside her. "You don't have to keep talking. I'm convinced." He lowered his head and kissed her, and Mandy's brain promptly turned to mush. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed him back, and when they broke apart she was securely in Scott's embrace.

"It's like I remember," Mandy whispered dreamily. "I always loved your kisses."

"I love _you,"_ Scott told her quietly. "You really are the love of my life, and you always will be. What would you say if I asked you to marry me—again?"

"I'd say yes," Mandy told him immediately, thrilled.

"Great," Scott replied, beaming at her. "How about today?"

Mandy gaped at him. "What?"

"Sure!" he said, grinning widely. "Mr. Roarke went to all that trouble to set up the wedding and the reception. There's catering, and all the guests are here, and…well, my dad's here too, after all. Mr. Roarke said he can perform the ceremony at five. So how 'bout it?"

"My God," Mandy exclaimed, stunned. "I…I don't even have a dress—"

"Marry me in this one you're wearing," Scott urged. "You look gorgeous in it."

"B-but rings?" Mandy stuttered, her head reeling.

Scott laughed softly and kissed her. "We can just use the same rings we wore the first time around," he said. "This time they'll really mean something—to both of us. You do still have yours, don't you?"

Mandy nodded faintly, eyes wide. "I can't believe you still have yours."

"Never got rid of it," Scott said. "I always had that hope. Come on, Mandy, sweet-heart, let's do it. Let's leave this island married, like we ought to be."

Mandy blinked at him, let the whole thing sink in for five seconds, then threw her arms around him and cried, "Yes, let's! What a perfect place to start over again!" She drew back and regarded him, her eyes shining through new tears. "I love you, Scott, I love you for-ever. I'll make sure you never have a reason to regret this."

"I already know I won't," Scott assured her. "Come on, let's go, quick."

§ § § -- April 26, 2004

"What a truly gorgeous wedding," Leslie said with a smile when the Enderlings paused in front of her and Roarke. "I'm so glad it worked out the way it did. You two really belong together."

"Yeah, we do, don't we?" Scott agreed, grinning at Mandy, who beamed back and hugged him. "It took me a while to see the light, but I'm glad I did. Thanks for everything."

"You're welcome, of course," Roarke said warmly, shaking hands with each of them. "I wish both of you all happiness for the future."

Mandy laid her head on Scott's shoulder and grinned at Leslie. "Maybe if we're lucky, we'll find ourselves in the same condition you're in," she said.

"Just you, sweetheart," Scott corrected. "I haven't got the right equipment. But I tell you what, you're gonna be a siren when you're pregnant." He leered at her, and they all burst into laughter and traded more farewells. The Enderlings ambled to the plane dock with arms wrapped firmly around each other, and Leslie smiled, then flinched as a triplet gave her a smart kick from within.

"Ow, you little brat!" she muttered, rubbing her abdomen. "There's just not enough room in there for those three little turkeys."

Roarke chuckled. "What time is your appointment?" he asked.

"Eleven," said Leslie. "Christian and I were planning to do a couple of errands before we go over to the hospital. Dr. Hannaford said she might be able to give us some sort of tar-get date for me to give birth. It would be nice to have that to look forward to."

Christian met them at the main house as usual, kissing Leslie before taking her hand and accompanying her into the house with Roarke. "So how were the newlyweds this morning?" he asked humorously.

"Delirious," Leslie told him, grinning. "Pretty much like you and I were the morning after our wedding…except maybe with a little less disbelief that they were finally together, after all this time."

Christian laughed. "There _was_ a feeling of unreality in the beginning," he admitted, "but seeing you there beside me in the bed, reaching out and holding you, convinced me that it wasn't just an elusive dream after all. Now I'm secure in this reality—though, you realize, I simply can't take you for granted, not after all I had been through before then."

"I should find it an enormous, and very unhappy, surprise to hear of either of you taking the other for granted," Roarke observed, smiling at them. "I have seen few examples of love, devotion and loyalty to match yours. So…it's my understanding that you may learn when you will at last welcome your children into the world."

"That's what we're told," Christian agreed. "I've begun to get questions at work. In any case, Beth Keoki is doing a stellar job; she's been an excellent addition to my staff, and the backlog has dropped considerably since she started working for me. Given enough time to make the effort, we may catch up enough that I'll feel no guilt for taking three months of paternity leave."

A couple of hours later Christian and Leslie were in the examination room, watching their unborn children on the monitor while Dr. Hannaford performed the latest ultrasound and did her usual tests. "Number three's gone heads-down," she announced presently, "so that's all to the good." She glanced at the monitor, grinned at something and asked, "Are you two very sure you don't want to know what you've got?"

"Positive," Leslie said firmly. "Not till they're born. With all the technology out there, we still like some things done the old-fashioned way."

"Exactly so," Christian concurred, chuckling softly.

Dr. Hannaford nodded. "Your call," she said amiably. She shut off the transducer and began to wipe the conductive gel off Leslie's skin. "Well, it looks good. If we can keep them in there for another month, that would be ideal—nature probably won't let them languish much beyond the thirty-fourth or thirty-fifth week. You'll probably go into labor by June first, Mrs. Enstad, and then we'll get you in here and perform the C-section."

Leslie looked up at her with wide, nervous eyes, and Christian put a hand on her shoulder, repeatedly squeezing gently. "Isn't there any chance," Leslie asked a little plain-tively, "that even one of them could be born the usual way?"

Dr. Hannaford paused. "You're that scared of surgery?" she asked.

"Terrified," Leslie admitted. "More so than of being in labor, I think. I've heard it takes longer to recover from a Caesarian than from a natural birth, because after all, they have to cut you open to take the babies out."

Christian cleared his throat. "I had promised Leslie not to ask intrusive questions," he said a little sheepishly, "but she's so intimidated by this that I thought I should mention something to you. Before I started my own business, I worked in the computer labs at the city hospital in Sundborg, Lilla Jordsö's capital—in fact it was the hospital in which I myself was born. Part of the job was records maintenance, and of course you see just about every-thing one might expect to see in a large hospital. That included maternity records, and I can remember two or three occasions on which a patient was admitted who gave birth to trip-lets. And in all those cases, the babies were born vaginally. There's a little more room for experimentation with such things in the European medical community, which is why there are many beneficial medications and procedures available to European patients that are denied to Americans. I must assume you were trained in the United States."

Dr. Hannaford stared at him, amazed. "I was," she said. "Granted, Fantasy Island is a realm unto itself; but I have to go with what I know."

"I understand that," Christian said, nodding. "But if Leslie has been doing so well all the way through this pregnancy, do you think there's any chance at all of trying a purely vaginal delivery? Perhaps not all three can be delivered that way, but at least the first one and possibly the second as well. She wants to breast-feed, and I understand that it would be harder for her if she's trying to recover from surgery."

"Well," said Dr. Hannaford, peering curiously at Leslie, "if I'd known you meant to breast-feed, I'd have taken that into consideration. How are you going to manage three of them? I've never had a patient with more than twins before, and I'm curious."

"We'll rotate," Leslie said. "We talked about this some time ago. Obviously I can feed only two at a time. Christian will feed the third baby. At a given feeding, I'll have babies one and two, and Christian will have baby three. The next feeding, I'd have babies two and three, and Christian would have number one…and so on."

"So they would necessarily have a mixed diet of breast milk and formula," Christian noted, "but at least all three would have the benefits of breast-feeding."

Dr. Hannaford looked back and forth between the Enstads, then slowly shook her head, a reluctant grin breaking out on her face. "You two really impress me," she said. "You seem to have this all figured out…which is great, really. Parents who are as organized as possible before the babies' arrival are a lot better able to cope with the chaos that naturally surrounds babies, even when there's only one." She gave a sigh and absently scratched the top of her head, considering the situation. "Listen, I tell you what. I've got a colleague in Austria who's been dying to take a vacation here. Suppose I ask for her opinion, and then see if she's willing to assist in the delivery when the time comes? She'll be more open to the idea of strictly vaginal birth, and moreover, she'll have more experience and be able to help in case something goes wrong. Her name's Dr. Renate Giese. Is that acceptable?"

Christian and Leslie looked at each other. "What do you think, my darling?" he asked softly. "I don't mind, but of course it's up to you."

"I think it's a good idea," she said and smiled at him. "It sure can't hurt." Christian chuckled at that, and she turned back to Dr. Hannaford. "By all means, tell her to come on over if she's interested. I'm so grateful for the chance. I mean, since we're going to have three of them, I'd rather be able to take on my share of the work as soon as I can."

"Understandable," Dr. Hannaford said. "Okay, then I'll contact Renate and make the arrangements. Meantime, you two scat." She grinned. "I've got patients in worse shape than you are, and you're taking up space." The Enstads laughed and obediently departed.

On their way home Christian reached out and wrapped a hand around Leslie's, dis-tracting her from what appeared to be daydreaming. "Are you all right?"

She nodded, smiling and squeezing his hand. "Much better, actually. Maybe a little scared anyway, just because of labor and birthing and all that. But having the option of a vaginal birth really takes a load off my mind."

"Mine as well, I must admit," Christian remarked, slowing to cross a narrow wooden bridge over an inlet. "Perhaps we'll have the opportunity to meet this Renate Giese before you go into labor, depending on when she comes here. It's well that Mr. Roarke has the authority to decide what sort of laws and procedures would be most beneficial to the people on this island. He's open-minded enough to take the best of both European and North American ideas, and not to go entirely one way or the other out of mere prejudice or majority rule. I like Dr. Hannaford, but I sometimes wonder if she isn't just a little too rigid."

"Well, that's just her training talking," said Leslie, shrugging. "As she said, she has to go with what she knows."

"Perhaps," Christian said. "I expect it was pure luck that she has a European doctor friend. But so much the better for us. I was thinking also—when do you think would be the best time for Margareta and her servant to come out here? I think it better if they're in place by the time the triplets are born, and they can help to get things ready in the meantime."

"Sure," said Leslie. "They could be here by the middle of May, I think—that should be enough advance time to get them settled in." She looked at Christian, squeezed his hand again and grinned excitedly at him when he looked curiously at her. "It's really coming down to the last few weeks. I can hardly wait."

Christian snickered. "For sleepless nights and constant feedings and being spit up on, and the endless dirty diapers? My Rose, you're a masochist!"

Laughing, Leslie said, "Yeah, well, maybe that's all it'll be in the beginning, but in a few months we're going to see them smile at us, and we can play with them, and they'll be such a joy to have around. It's all so exciting…and I'm sure Father will be just as proud a grandpa as anybody you ever saw. I know he'll help any way he can."

"It'll be an adventure, that much is certain," Christian observed. "But of course, we're in this together." He slowed the car to turn into the Enclave access road. "And to me, that's the most important thing of all. Amid all the noise and confusion and exhaustion, I know I can turn to you at night and thank the fates that we're together to do all this in the first place. There's never a morning I awaken without looking to be sure you're there beside me, even after more than three years of being married to you. I love you, my Leslie Rose, no matter how often I say it—more than anything else in the world."

"I love you too, my darling, just as much, if not more. And I'm so glad I'm going through this with you…there's nobody else I'd rather do it with." Leslie tipped aside long enough to kiss his cheek. "Well, let's see if anything else is lacking in the guest suite or the babies' rooms. I want to be sure they're ready for their new occupants."

"They will be," Christian said and smiled. "I just hope _we_ will." She giggled, and they stole a quick kiss.

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_Next up: the triplets arrive at last—at a price neither Roarke nor Christian may be willing to pay…_


End file.
